Finding The Right Prince
by r-mak
Summary: Explaining things to children is hard… as is explaining things in general. RT futurefic. Fluffed-up fluffy fluff.
1. The Escape

**FINDING THE RIGHT PRINCE**

**-1-**

**THE ESCAPE**

The morning passed with a blur. Taylor had woken up early and had her hair and makeup done before she left for the church. God (or other divine force, or not, or something else… holy crap… oh no… unholy crap… oh no… just crap… uggh, what the hell was wrong with her?), what the hell was she doing in a church? It wasn't like she was religious… in fact she was still agnostic despite how pathetic it was.

"_What faith do you belong to?" _

"_None… I'm agnostic." _

"_Oh." _

Yeah, that was always an interesting conversation… especially when you were talking to the priest who would be marrying you to your fiancé. Who the hell lived life being agnostic about everything, anyways? Oh yeah… she did.

Up until a few of years ago, despite being agnostic about most things in life, she believed in true love. However, today she was even agnostic about the entire concept of true love.

Did she love Bradley Carleton? Was she **in** love with him? Was she prepared to be the mother of his children and spend the rest of her life with him? Was the prospect of growing old and grey with him appealing? Did she want to end up divorced yet again? Sure, when she married Henri Michel she had been drunk and naïve, but now… what was her excuse now? She'd been with Brad for two years, longer than she had ever been with anyone else… she knew him, she cared about him, but did she_** love**_ him? Was this really what she wanted?

Her mother had been the one to make the decisions regarding almost everything. She was the one who picked out the flowers, told her which dress looked best (made her look slimmer than she really was), picked out the jewelry and the shoes, decided on the venue for the reception, chose the cake (some non fat dairy free concoction that she was sure would taste like cardboard), and even had a say in who her made of honor was. Taylor had wanted to ask Summer Roberts because she was the only real friend she ever had but her mother had shot down the suggestion for two reasons. Firstly she shouldn't have a maid of honor that looked so much better than her and would out do her without any effort on her wedding day. Secondly, she didn't want to run the risk of "the vile felon she had a romp with" being at the wedding and creating a scene. Her reaction to her mother's arguments had been the same as they had been with everything else… she bit her tongue and blindly accepted. It was nice having her mother pay attention to her even if it was just to make sure that she married Brad in the best wedding in the history of the Californian elite. She tried to tell herself that her overall lack of excitement about the whole thing had nothing to do with the fact that she didn't really want this.

Taylor looked into the mirror as her maid of honor (her mousey secretary whom she barely knew) helped her with her veil. Her hair had been done in loose tendrils and put up into a loose bun with her bangs and a few loose tendrils hanging out here and there. She looked alright, she knew, but for some reason she felt like smashing the mirror into little pieces. This wasn't her. She didn't wear huge, flashy diamond necklaces and earnings. The engagement ring on her finger was a monstrosity and she felt like it kept her from doing the simplest tasks with her hand. It was all so overwhelming. This wasn't her. The top half of her wedding dress fit well, hugging and accentuating her body in all the right places despite the heavy embroidery and embellishment, while the bottom half of her dress was the opposite. The bottom half of her dress was huge, puffy, satiny, and it had such a long train. It covered her feet and she wondered why the hell she was wearing Jimmy Choo's if no one was going to see them anyways. Oh God! This wasn't her.

"Wow! You look so beautiful!" she heard Carol (her maid of honor) exclaim once the veil was on. "Are you okay?" she heard her ask after a few moments.

"What?"

"Are you okay? You're breathing kind of weirdly"

Taylor stopped thinking and paid attention to her breathing. She was breathing erratically. Focusing on her erratic breathing made her breathe more erratically. She needed to stop. Focus on something else. Focus on anything else. Talk. Just talk.

"Oh, I'm fine" Taylor laughed. "Just peachy. I love peaches you know. One of my ex-husbands used to call me peaches. He said that my breasts were like ripe peaches. He even wrote this erotic novel about me called 'A Season for Peaches.' It's more fiction than anything else, just so you know… incase you've ever read it or are planning to now that I've mentioned it. I know how to make peach torte. For a while it was the only thing I could make but then I learned how to make other stuff… like coq au vin. Vin means wine in French. Mmmm… got to love wine. I hope there's wine at the reception. Champagne is good but it kind of tickles my upper palate and creates this tingly sensation in my nose that makes me giggle" Taylor giggled at the thought of the feeling. "Like that" she laughed some more while Carol looked at her weirdly. "I am weird and if you're going to stick around for more than a month you better get used to it" she said, reading her secretary's mind.

"Taylor, everything is set. In a couple of minutes the procession will start and you walk down the aisle" her mother said as she barged into the room and looked her over. "That will do. It isn't the best but at least you don't look like a cow" she said before turning around and leaving the room. Taylor saw her secretary look at her mother in shock and she smiled at her reassuringly trying to say 'if I can deal with her my whole life you can do it for just a day'.

Taylor had to walk down the aisle alone since her father still refused to acknowledge her existence (big surprise!). Her veil was set so that it was already pulled back. Carol handed her the bouquet and Taylor began to inhale and exhale deeply in order to make herself calm down. She needed to think zen. Yes, zen. She needed to find that calm inner space within her that would guide her through this. She followed the procession and waited behind the doors.

She was marrying Bradley Carleton. She was going to be Mrs. Bradley Carleton. Taylor Carleton. Taylor Townsend de Momourant Devereaux Carleton. What if this wasn't it? What if they ended up getting divorced and then she met some other guy and another name was added to the list? And what if that man wasn't the right one either and she ended up divorcing him and then meeting another man? What if she spent her entire life searching for the one and marrying all the wrong men and by the time she died she had like fifty last names but had never found the one?

She shook her head, trying to shake the thought. She wasn't repeating her past mistakes because she wasn't drunk this time, and she had known this guy for much longer than a matter of days. Then again, maybe it would be better if she was drunk, at least that way she wouldn't be conscious enough to process the thoughts reeling through her mind.

Sometimes people just don't find the one. She thought she had… but she'd been young, naïve, and just oh so wrong. She knew she shouldn't be thinking of _him_, but she couldn't help it.

_He_ broke her heart and she had spent the first of three years of college (she fast tracked) in France having casual flings and sex with random guys in order to numb the pain and just forget. She knew she wasn't as big a slut as Summer's old roommate at Brown, but she knew she was still a slut. She chose not to discuss her sexual exploits with her best friend when they talked because a) Summer never had enough time to talk about them with her because she was on the road constantly and Taylor felt that she should spend whatever little time they had to talk to each other discussing more meaningful things, b) she didn't want her best friend to know about what a slut she had become, and c) she didn't want _him_ to find out (after she let it slip to her boyfriend and he blabbed to his foster brother) that she hadn't been able to cope with the breakup and think she was pathetic.

Her second and third years were spent studying, working for a translating company, and latching on to Jacques Deveraux after he saved her from walking into the path of a speeding car while she was busy multitasking (reading, talking on the phone, and walking) on the busy streets of Paris. After approximately five dinner dates and a bottle of Bordeaux, he told her that it was true love and asked her to marry him, which of course she did because she was drunk and needy.

It turned out that the man was one of Henri Michel's weirdo fans and wanted to get a piece of the real Peaches. She had thought it was suspicious that some of the things he did to her had been like reenactments of things she had read in the book and her suspicions were confirmed when she found Henri in their bedroom, prepared for a threesome that was _**never**_ going to happen. She, having learned the ins and outs of French marital law, created a scene that caused neighbors to come out from their homes and hear her rant on and on about how she was tired of her husband's homosexual tendencies. The fact that Jacques and Henri Michel were standing by the front door in their robes hadn't really shed a positive light on them. Some nosy neighbors were more than happy to attest to Jacques affair with Henri and just cause for divorce.

She had called her only friend to wish her a Merry Christmas and she asked how she was planning on spending the holidays. Summer fumed when she said she planned to celebrate like never before and let the news of the whirlwind marriage and freshly finalized divorce slip in overjoyed relief but couldn't help but laugh hysterically when she found out how she got out of it this time, given that _he_ wasn't there to rescue her. According to her, the asshats deserved it and she needed to make sure she didn't celebrate too hard and end up in the same situation a third time.

The whole thing was actually an entertaining distraction and the fact that she was able to get out of the mess by herself (although a small thanks had to go to Henri) made her feel independent and free – especially of _him_. She hated herself for not being able to get _him_ out of her mind and she currently kicked herself for thinking about _him_ and her tumultuous past today… especially at this very moment. It wasn't that she still held feelings for him – no, she'd drowned all of those out over two years ago when she finally realized that she didn't need him and was no longer sure if it was really love that she felt for him anyways… or if it was just hopes, dreams, and the overwhelming want to be loved. It was the fact that she let _him _impact her life in such a monumental way that bothered her. She had been with _him_ for less than a year, but _he_ affected her for nearly four years. By the time she graduated, she loathed who she had become and wanted to start over. That's why when she applied, was accepted, and offered a scholarship, she decided to pursue her masters in linguistics at NYU.

Taylor allowed her heart to swell with the memory of how it all started. She literally ran into Brad on her way into the co-ed mature student dormitory in the beginning of the fall semester, spilling Starbucks coffee on his shirt and apologizing profusely. She remembered the way he took hold of her nervous hands and stopped them from patting down his shirt with napkins, causing her to look up into his amused blue eyes. She remembered the wide smile that spread across her lips when he told her that it was okay, and that she could make it up to him by letting him buy her a new cup. It was such a chick flick moment, but she remembered nodding dumbly, entranced by his shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, strong jaw line, and rugged good looks. He asked her to wait for him while he went up and changed his shirt and she told him that she'd meet him back there in five minutes because she wanted to drop her books off. She remembered the way she made sure she had mace (just in case) in her purse when she made her way to her room and ran into the washroom excitedly, making sure that her hair, makeup, and clothes looked okay. When she made her way back downstairs, she felt butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him waiting for her. For the first time in four years _he_ was the last and most non-existent thing on her mind. They talked as they walked to the nearest Starbucks and she was pleased when she found out something they had in common. They were both native Californians who turned into Starbucks addicts after coming to NYU. He was a graduate student as well, working on his masters in business administration.

Their relationship progressed slowly and steadily... starting out with coffee dates, and moving on to lunch and dinner dates. It took two weeks before he finally kissed her and it was great. She had forgotten how to take things slowly and just enjoy the ride. She had told him this, all about her past – the countless flings, two whirlwind marriages, and the erotic novel that was mostly fiction –, and she told him that she was telling him because she saw potential between them and didn't want whatever was going on between them to be meaningless because she actually liked him, inside and out (which caused him to smirk), and was tired of meaninglessness. He told her that he had been though enough randoms and meaningless flings, that it didn't matter if she got drunk and married a French man twice, and with a quirked eyebrow and a sly grin he told her that he could see how she could inspire a man to write an erotic novel about her but that he didn't plan on reading it because it was in her past and he wanted to figure it all out for himself one day – not now since they were going to take this slow. She blushed, smacked him playfully on the arm, and kissed him. He hadn't been in a serious relationship in a while too but felt something when he was with her and didn't want to mess it up by rushing into anything either. They walked around the city, took in all the tourist attractions, went to Broadway performances and movies, danced the night away as they explored the club scene, and sometimes just stayed in the dorms and watched a movie or talked. Two months into their relationship she finally let him spend the night in her room.

She remembered the snowy New Year's Eve they spent together in New York, watching the ball drop, kissing each other tenderly at the stroke of midnight, him telling her he loved her, her telling him she loved him, and relishing in the feel of his arms around her and lips pressed against her own yet again. Summer had called her the next day to wish her a Happy New Year and tell her that she saw her on television. Apparently it was nice seeing her friend happy and all lovey dovey at the stroke of midnight despite the fact that she had no idea she was in any kind of a relationship or would be in the country. Taylor blushed through the phone at the combination of what her friend had just said and the fact that Brad had just brushed her hair off her shoulder and began to trail kisses to her neck. She wanted to know everything and Taylor told her she'd tell her, but not at that moment because she was busy. Her friend wanted to know what she could possibly be busy with at 2pm on New Year's Day and she remained silent. A loud "ewww" could be heard on the phone followed by a quick goodbye. She turned her cellphone off after that and the two of them continued to spend the rest of the day in bed, with the exception of when they needed food to refuel the energy it required to stay in bed. According to Brad he was letting her know all of the ways in which he loved her. Taylor had giggled at the lameness of the line but didn't complain about it.

Apparently a lot of people watched the ball drop that year, or maybe it just seemed that way since one of the most important moments in her and Brad's relationship was broadcasted on national television. Most of his family had seen it and wanted to know who the "beautiful girl who won his heart and kept him away from them during the holidays" was. Until this point she had never heard much about Brad's family. He had shown her some pictures of them that were lying around his room but he didn't really talk about them.

Taylor had been avoiding her mother's phone calls for two weeks after the broadcast, not wanting to hear her rant about how she'd embarrassed her with her shenanigans. She found out about the fact that Veronica had been bragging around Newport about her having bagged the governor of California's son from Summer when she finally called her back for the long overdue explanation. Her friend was shocked when she found out that she had already graduated and thought she was stupid for keeping it from her because she thought she would think she was a freak. According to Summer, one of the many reasons why she loved her was because she was a freak. Her best friend was more shocked to find out that she was at NYU working on her masters in linguistics and even more shocked when Taylor revealed that she had fallen in love with a guy she didn't know was the son of the governor of California. Apparently Taylor had gained an almost celebrity status in California as their golden boy's girl. Needless to say, she was shocked, somewhat horrified, and wondered how the hell she had no clue about who the guy she'd been dating for the past four months was. Summer thought it probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't stepped foot in California in over three years and that he didn't like that the media had portrayed him as a womanizer. Taylor questioned him about the whole thing after her conversation with Summer and found out that her friend had been right. She understood and could relate. After all, he had mentioned the randoms and causal flings when she had told him about her own past.

They brushed everything aside and allowed their relationship to flourish throughout the winter semester. She continued to ignore her mother while his family continued to ask about her and request to meet her. He told her that he planned on surprising them after they finished their masters by just bringing her to dinner one night. She was excited about the prospect because she loved surprises. When they finished their degrees he got job offers left and right and she got a few too. The one area in which they both had job offers was San Francisco.

They sat on the options for days before they laid everything out on the table, both of them becoming annoyed with the uneasy tension. He said he loved her. She said she loved him. He said he wanted to be with her. She said she wanted the same. His eyes lit up and he knelt on one knee before pulling out a black velvet box, opening it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring, and asking her to marry him. "San Francisco it is!" she exclaimed with tears in her eyes and a bright smile across her face as she held out her hand for him to put the ring on. She loved the ring at the time. It was beautiful. It was a white gold ring with a large diamond in the center, offset by smaller ones. The main reason she loved it though, was because it symbolized her future with him.

Taylor began to subconsciously rub the ring with her thumb. She wondered when she stopped seeing the ring as something beautiful and began to look at it as a monstrosity.

Brad's family liked her. She knew they would, it wasn't even a question – if she tried hard enough she could hit it off with anyone. His parents – Jeff and Barbra – thought she was beautiful. His sisters loved talking to her about fashion and gossip. One of his brothers happened to like anime and they could go on for hours talking about it. The other brother was into politics like his father. It was when her family came up that things started to take a turn for the worst. Veronica had shown up for dinner one night and acted like they had been on speaking terms forever and that she had always been a part of her life. Her mother told her that she had done well for herself for the first time in her entire life and she couldn't fathom how she managed to bag Bradley. She should have been happy about it, but the way Veronica began to show up for dinners with the family more frequently and the way she and Barbra had so much in common ate away at her.

Taylor was upset when news of the engagement was fed to the media. Upset wasn't the right word. She had been fuming. She knew it was her mother, gloating and trying to gain attention as well as praise from her "friends". Where was her mother when she was younger and she actually needed her? She had grown accustomed to her mother's negligence due to her selfishness but the fact that she was paying attention to her and using her title as her mother for her own selfish endeavors was something new and it infuriated her. San Francisco wasn't that bad to walk around in – but when she went to Newport she had to wear sunglasses and even then, people would stare at her, point fingers, and whisper. Some woman even had the audacity to ask her how her fiancé was in the sack.

Over the years Taylor had grown accustomed to a simpler life. She had supported herself through college because she didn't want her mother to have anything to hold over her head. She knew how to get by on the bare essentials – along with her trust fund and the hefty settlement from her second divorce. She and Brad had gotten an apartment together in San Francisco and when they were alone they were happy. They didn't see each other as much as they would have liked because they were both busy with work, and soon meetings with the "family" for wedding preparations began to take up time as well. Brad didn't say much at any of these meetings, despite Taylor's urgings and every time she spoke up, Veronica shot her down. She wanted something simple but classy while Veronica and Barbra had their sights set on something large and extravagant. Brad was Barbra's baby boy and Veronica loved attention.

Taylor glanced into the room at all the flowers. She looked at her dress. She studied her ring and oversized bouquet of flowers. She became vaguely aware of the heavy diamond necklace around her neck. Maybe it was the necklace that was making it hard for her to breathe. It was a possibility. Maybe it was the matching heavy diamond earrings that were making her think nonstop and get a headache. She looked into the room again and saw all the people. There had to be at least five hundred people at the ceremony and she only knew a handful that included her boss, a few coworkers, Carol, and Veronica. Her best friend, the one constant in her life over the last five years wasn't even here. They hadn't talked in a few months. Summer had called, but she hadn't been able to return the calls because she was busy and avoiding them because she felt guilty for not asking her to be her maid of honor. This wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't her.

She loved Brad. She knew she did. She couldn't hide it if she wanted to. A part of her would always love Brad, the same way (even though she tried her hardest to deny it) a part of her still loved _him_. She couldn't just stop loving someone who had been an important part of her life. But at the same time, she hated the life they had made with each other.

She wasn't a celebrity. She never wanted to be one and she had never done anything to be worthy of it. She saw the way women looked at Brad and although she knew he only saw her it still wore her thin.

Why her? Why her when there were drop dead gorgeous women who he could be with? There were gorgeous women who hadn't been married twice, didn't ramble, didn't over-think everything, didn't have an erotic novel written about them, hadn't been sluts, didn't mind having the attention of tons of people on them, and didn't have the entire slew of other issues that she had. Why not one of them? Why her?

She watched as her soon to be niece and nephew walked down the aisle. The adorable little girl sprinkled flower petals along the way. She wondered if she would ever have a daughter or a son. What kind of a mother would she be? She hoped she wouldn't be like her own – a woman who wavered from neglecting to living vicariously through her child and shoveled her own insecurities upon them.

Taylor felt her heart rate speed up as she watched Carol begin to walk down the aisle with Brad's best friend. Once again she was reminded of Summer Roberts… of the fact that it should have been the dark haired girl she was watching walk down the aisle before her, stopping by her side, watching her walk down the aisle, providing her support with a reassuring smile and her dark brown gaze, and taking her bouquet before she turned to…

The thought was shoved out of her head as she heard the bridal march begin. Her stomach churned and she felt sick. She quickly glanced behind her to the main doors of the Church and saw another one of Brad's nephew's holding on to the train of her dress and couldn't help but think about children again. They had never talked about children. They were getting married and they had never talked about kids. What if she wanted them and he didn't? What if he wanted them and she didn't? The little boy was staring at her and she stared back at him.

"You're supposed to start walking now" he whispered to her.

She couldn't even remember his name, or those of the little boy and girl who had already walked down the aisle. She was going to be such an awful aunt.

"Go!" he whispered again.

She turned her head and tried to focus on the front of the church where Brad stood, watching her. She could see the worry on his face and felt bad. She took a step forward, causing him to smile at her brightly. She smiled back, continuing to focus on him as she made her way down the aisle slowly.

All she saw was him and nothing else existed. Different things began to flash through her head – coffee stain, Starbucks, their lips pressed together, Statue of Liberty, beer, the crunching of leaves under their feet, a steady beat and his hands on her hips, their bare bodies tangled in each other and sheets, Wicked, a mixture of snow and confetti falling from the sky, "I love you", a black box, a ring – and before she knew it she was standing at the alter with Brad.

She stared into his eyes and could feel her hands in his. She looked down at her left one and saw the ring – the huge diamond ring that symbolized her future with him. She looked up and suddenly the room came into focus – the ghastly overabundance of flowers, the hundreds of people she didn't know, the presence of a woman she barely knew standing next to her on what was one of the most important days of her life, and her smug looking mother and soon to be mother in law seated next to each other in the front pew.

"Do you, Bradley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Taylor's mind whirled as she looked at the priest and then focused on Brad… only it wasn't Brad… it was Henri Michel. "To have…" She stared at Henri with wide eyes before closing her eyes and opening them to find some dark haired, green eyed Parisian guy she slept with once. "And to hold?" She blinked again and found herself looking into the lustful deep brown eyes of another man she'd been with but didn't know the name of. "From this day forward?" She blinked again and found herself looking at Sung Ho – she hadn't thought about him in years. What the hell was happening to her? "For better?" She blinked to find herself staring at Jack Hess. Oh my God! "For worse?" She blinked again, only to open her eyes to another random guy. Her stomach churned and her heart sank. "For richer?" She blinked and saw Jacques, the weirdo, Devereaux in front of her. "For poorer?" She quickly blinked and saw another random guy in front of her. "In sickness?" She shut her eyes… "And health?"… and opened them to finally find Brad staring at her. "Until death do you part?" She didn't feel better. She wasn't relieved and happy like she thought she would be.

"I do" she heard him say and felt him squeeze her hands slightly. She stared into his pale blue eyes as her stomach continued to churn, her head ached and spun at the same time, and her heart sank even deeper. She felt the sting of salty tears welling in her eyes.

"Do you, Taylor, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband – to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?" the priest asked her. She tore her eyes away from Brad and began to stare at the balding man with salt and pepper hair and wrinkles around his grey eyes, searching for some kind of support or reassurance but not finding anything but his willingness to accept her decision. It was as if he was telling her to look within herself for whatever it was that she needed. She'd already done this twice without even thinking about it. She loved Brad… in New York. New York was temporary – like Paris. Her life was in California and ever since she and Brad came here, their relationship had gone downhill. She understood that this was who he was, but couldn't he see that this wasn't who she was?

"Taylor?" she heard Brad whisper, but in the silence of the church he was deafeningly loud. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to pinpoint exactly what she felt at the moment and not being able to do so. "Honey?" he whispered as he squeezed her hands. She turned to him and opened her eyes, seeing the worry and dread flickering across his face and welling tears stung her eyes once again. She kissed his lips briefly before pulling her hands away from his, quickly bending down to hike up the skirt of her dress to lessen the likelihood of tripping, and didn't look back or bother listening to the shocked whispers, gasps, and cries of protest from her mother as she descended from the alter, and ran down the aisle and out the church doors.

She relished the feel of the fresh air hitting her face. She didn't stop to think, but just kept running. It felt so good to run and be able to leave all of **that** behind. The air was a bit cool for Californian standards and she vaguely acknowledged that it was still morning. She had no idea what time it actually was and didn't care. All she cared about was running and getting away. She had to get off the main roads so that less people would see her and people from the procession would have a harder time following her if they were. God, she hoped they weren't. She just couldn't do it. She wanted to be free of her mother, from the eye of the public, from a dead relationship – she wanted to be free from everything.

She kept running, with no real destination in mind, just the vague notion that she needed to avoid people and traffic. She cursed her mother and her Jimmy Choo's, blaming them for her sore feet, but continued to run as fast as she could. She had no idea how long she had been running but she soon recognized the familiar sound of heels clicking on wood and realized that she was at the pier. She continued to pass blurred faces but took the opportunity to enjoy the salty smell of the air, the breeze hitting her face, and the endless view of blue water while she continued to keep her fast pace. She had become so entranced with the sight of the sun reflecting off the ocean water that she stopped paying attention to the people around her, expecting them to see a crazy woman in a wedding dress on a rampage and just move out of her way. Taylor was caught off guard when she crashed into someone and held onto them for dear life in order to keep from toppling over.

"I am so sorry" she breathed once she felt like she had her bearings straight. "I should have looked where I was going but I'm in a rush and the ocean just looked so beautiful" she rambled breathlessly. "Again… so sorry" she said as she backed away from the man without looking up at him. "Thanks for letting me hold on to you so that I didn't fall" she said as she began to hike up the skirt of her dress again. "I don't know how I would have managed to pull myself back up in this stupid thing if I had fallen" she said with frustration echoing her voice as she tried to fist the fabric in just the right way so that she could continue on her marathon run.

"Taylor?" she heard a familiar voice question. She hadn't heard that voice in years but recognized it immediately. She froze in her struggle with the white fabric, snapped her head up, and found herself looking into _his_ deep blue eyes.

Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap!

This wasn't happening. This was just like that weird thing that happened in the church. She let go of the fabric and took a step back without blinking. Taylor let out a small squeal as she felt herself toppling backwards as one of her heels got caught in the train of her dress. She felt _his_ strong hands grip her bare arms securely and pull her back upright before she landed on the ground. She stared at him before shutting her eyes tightly. When she opened them _he _was still there. She blinked several more times and was shocked when _he _didn't disappear or change into someone else.

"Ryan?" she questioned, wanting to make sure she wasn't going crazy and seeing things. She ignored the look of slight disappointment that spread across his face as he nodded. "Oh my gosh! Ryan!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him. She was so thankful that she wasn't going crazy that she barely acknowledged the fact that he was placing his arms around her. What she did take the time to notice, however, was the fact that people were staring at them. She pulled away from him but realized that the train of her dress was still trapped under her heel and that if she didn't straighten it out, she could fall. She took hold of his right hand using her left one for support as she reached down and straightened it all out.

Once Taylor finally felt she could stand on her own and walk or run without falling flat on her face or butt, she let go of his hand and looked up to see him staring at her. Another quick glance around showed that others were staring too. She hated this place and wanted out… fast… faster than the speed her sore little feet in Jimmy Choo's could go.


	2. The Rescue

**FINDING THE RIGHT PRINCE**

**-2-**

**THE RESCUE**

Ryan opened the front door and picked up the paper before making his way back into the kitchen, setting himself down on a stool by the counter, grabbing cereal, and beginning to eat the contents straight from the box. It was Saturday morning and he had a meeting to attend. He lived alone and didn't feel like dirtying dishes and then washing them due to the fact that he didn't have the time to wash them before he left and didn't want to bother with washing them when he got back since he was meeting a contact in Newport for brunch, promised the Cohen's he would come over for dinner, would probably end up getting late and staying the night in his old room, and wouldn't make it back until tomorrow afternoon.

He removed the rubber band from the paper and unrolled it. It was just his luck that _she_ was on the front page. The picture was big and the full story was continued on another page. There was no way it wouldn't have caught his eye. Her picture had been splattered across the news for weeks, always smiling, always taunting, and always saying:

"_Look at me Ryan! Look at where I've gotten without you. Look at how happy I am without you…This could have been you Ryan! I could've been hugging you, kissing you, and wrapping my arms around you – if you hadn't broken up with me, had fought harder for what we had, and hadn't given me your blessings to move on and find happiness with someone else like this thick blond haired, blue eyed, shit eating grin wearing, pampered little rich boy._"

Ryan sighed and ran his hand over his face, through his hair, and down to rub the back of his neck. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to stop beating himself up over this. She was happy. He should be happy for her.

It wasn't that simple though. He still loved _her_. He never stopped. No one had ever measured up to _her_ and he knew that no one ever would or could. How the hell were you supposed to find better once you've had the best? There had been plenty of randoms and girls he dated for a few weeks or months here and there but broke up with as soon as the Cohens started bugging him about bringing them home for dinner because even if he tried, he knew he wasn't serious about them. He just didn't care about them. He tried to, but just couldn't for some reason. He even made the mistake of referring to a few girls by _her_ name. He couldn't get her out of his head. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, and if she thought about him at the oddest times. The fact that he still thought about her after so many years pissed him off.

It didn't matter though. She was marrying the son of the governor of California. He had been kidding himself when they were younger. She was out of his league – so beautiful, smart, funny, kind, caring… she was just so high above him and belonged to a class of her own. He was always just some thug from Chino. It made sense that she picked someone better than him to spend the rest of her life with. She deserved someone who belonged to the same league as her.

He studied the picture morosely – taking in her bright hazel eyes, smiling red lips, the way her chin rested on her fiancé's shoulder and her arms draped over the front his body, and her rich auburn hair cascading over their shoulders. It reminded him of the picture they had taken together – the one she placed in the scrapbook that still rested in a secure spot under his bed. She was happy. He could see it in her eyes.

They had been together for less than a year but he knew her like the back of his hand. She had opened herself up and exposed herself to him and he loved her for it. He never really understood what they meant when people said that the eyes were the windows to the soul until he met her. Her eyes told him everything. They told him when she was happy, sad, being mischievous, hurt, angry, amused, turned on, and in love.

Sometimes she would say something but her eyes would say another. He remembered the look in her eyes in the sleeper car when she propped her head up from his bare chest and looked at him. He remembered the intense love in those amazing hazel orbs. New York was less than half an hour away and he was supposed to have gotten off on the second stop in San Bernardino. He didn't get off because he didn't want to let her go. There was so much love in her eyes – but he could also see the pain that love caused. He kissed the top of her head and told her that they should get dressed. She half-heartedly agreed. They sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke. He told her that they couldn't do this, that they had different dreams and lives, that they had tried the long distance thing before and that it just hadn't worked out. He told her that they had saved each other, but that they needed to move on. He saw the mixture of hope and dread in her eyes when she finally looked up at him and asked if it was what he really wanted. He watched all of the hope drain from her eyes when he silently nodded. She immediately put on a smile and told him that she understood. According to her, college life beckoned both of them and neither one of them should be tied down while they were worlds apart. He watched as more pain crept into her eyes while her smile never faltered when he said that she was right. The train stopped and she stood up, smoothed down her blouse and skirt, and smiled up at him when he stood. Her eyes told him that he had let her down again and broken her heart while her voice told him that she wished him the best of luck and that they had fun while it lasted. She hastily gave him one last kiss on the lips before grabbing her luggage and practically running off the train. He followed her outside and watched as she quickly hauled a cab to take her to the ferry, had the driver place her luggage inside, got in, and made her way out of his life forever without glancing back even once.

Ryan looked at the picture in order to look at her eyes. Her eyes said that she was happy with her fiancé. Her eyes told him that she loved the man who she was wrapping her arms around. Her eyes said that he was the last thing on her mind.

He slammed his fist down on the newspaper before rolling it up and tossing it in the recycling bin. He didn't need to be reminded of what he had lost when there was so much out there that he could gain – like a deal with Ralph Jacobs that could put him on the map as an independent architect. It could be the first step in building a career of his own instead of having to work for some small low key company for the rest of his life. He shoved one last handful of cereal in his mouth before getting up to go take a shower and get ready for his meeting.

Ryan had to keep the radio off all the way to Newport. He was going to listen to some stupid countdown or the other in order to clear his mind of _her_, but it seemed that after every other song the host would start talking about California's wedding of the century, how hot the groom was, and how beautiful the bride would look in some expensive dress by a designer that he didn't remember the name of. He changed the station and tried to find something else to listen to but it was the same thing on each station.

He didn't get what the big deal was. People got married everyday. Just because the governor's womanizing, shit-eating, partying boozehound turned Prince Charming was getting married didn't mean there wasn't more important news to cover. Who the hell cared anyways? The dumbasses just didn't have lives and had to leech off those of other people.

Sure, the guy looked good – blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build, chiseled features – but seriously? There were tons of guys out there that looked like Bradley Carleton. Like him – only his nose was kind of big, his cheeks were a bit chubby, his eyes looked old, he was short, he had a really thick neck, and… fuck, he needed to stop. He sounded like a girl, or Seth.

But what the hell? What the fuck kind of a name was Bradley Carleton? The name alone made him want to beat the snot out of the guy.

"_Duh. Hi. My name is Bradley Carleton._"

Does that name really impress women? Queer. It was such a prissy name. At least his name had substance. Ryan Atwood. At least his name was manly.

Fuck.

He needed to stop.

"Atwood" he heard a man say as he approached the table he was sitting at. His entire trip here had been a blur except for the fact that she had been on his mind.

"Jacobs" he said as he stood, took the man's hand, and shook it firmly. He was thankful he finally arrived. He needed the distraction. He needed something other than _her_ to focus on.

They talked. Ralph Jacobs was funny. He knew about a lot of the projects that Ryan had worked on. He liked his work and wanted Ryan to design and oversee the construction of the building for a new company he was setting up in Berkley. Not only was the man offering a reasonable deal, but this opportunity could further his career and the project was situated in familiar territory.

"I have quite a bit on my plate right now. I hope you don't mind but I'm going to have to think this over for a few days" Ryan said with his poker face on because he absolutely intended to take the deal.

"I understand" the man said with a smile. "Get back to me as soon as you can. I appreciate the fact that you drove all the way out here on such short notice."

"It wasn't a big deal. I used to live out here. I haven't been back here since I started college at UC Berkley so this was a great opportunity for me to come out and visit my old stomping grounds" he said.

"I'm glad you see it that way. I should get going though. I promised my wife that I'd pick some things up before we head to the Carleton wedding reception. It's supposed to be the event of the year or something like that. Personally, I hate the damn things, but the missus loves them" he said with a wink. "You've got to do what you've got to do" he said as he stood up.

And there it was again… a reminder of _her_**.**

"Alright. It was good talking business with you. Don't forget to get back to me. You're my top pick Atwood" Jacobs said as he held out his hand again while Ryan stood.

"I will. Bye" was all Ryan said as he shook the man's hand and sat down again.

Ryan remained seated for a few minutes. He looked at his watch. It was a few minutes past 11am. He wanted to punch something. She was probably married by now.

"Is there something else you need sir?" the waitress who had served him and Jacobs asked.

"No" he said morosely. "How much do I owe you?"

"$11.69" she said and he handed her his credit card. He didn't feel like dealing with change. He took out three dollars from his wallet to use as a tip and handed it to the girl when she came back with his card and the receipt.

"Thank you" she said with a smile and he smiled back at her. She was about to leave when he stopped her.

"Hey, is it okay if I leave my car parked out front and go take a walk on the pier?" he asked. "I know some places around here have some kind of policy. I just don't want to get ticketed" he explained.

"Oh, yeah, sure… it's no problem" she said with a smile.

"Alright. Thanks" he said with as much of a smile as he could muster before standing and making his way through the restaurant and towards the exit that led to the pier. He walked along the pier and sighed as the salty smelling air filled his lungs. His mind drifted back to all the time he had spent here when he was younger. Memories of time spent with Seth, Summer, Marissa, Sandy, Kirsten, and _her_ on the pier wafted through his head as he rested his elbows on the railing and stared out at the endless ocean.

Thinking of _her _brought about other memories too. He remembered the Chrismukkah she called Summer to wish her a Merry Christmas. Apparently Summer had been trying to contact her for a while and was starting to worry about her. He remembered how Summer was relieved when she called but freaked out when she found out that she had gotten married again. Her screeching had attracted everyone's attention. She seemed to forget where she was because she kept talking to her friend freely, not caring about the fact that everyone was eavesdropping. His heart had wrenched at the thought that she had managed to fall in love with someone else and marry them but as he continued to listen in to Summer's side of the conversation he found out that she repeated the whole Henri Michel incident with another man and managed to get out of the marriage by herself. He wasn't sure how she managed to get out of it but Summer had started to laugh hysterically as the conversation progressed and warned her not to celebrate too much and end up in the same situation a third time. When she ended the conversation and found everyone staring at her she just shrugged, refused to answer anyone's (mainly Seth's) questions, and stated something about sisterly confidentiality. He had wondered how she got out of the marriage and worried that she found someone else to sign a document stating that she had sex with them thirty times and ended up falling in love with them. Although he would never admit it to anyone, especially to those who said he started to brood a lot after that phone call, the fact that she didn't need his help had upset him.

What upset him even more was that stupid New Year's Eve broadcast that Sophie insisted on watching because Sandy had told her about the ball drop. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him at first but everyone else had seen it too. She had been with that Carleton fucker and they kissed at the stroke of midnight. The guy told her he loved her and she smiled her signature smile at him, the one with the scrunched up nose, before telling him that she loved him too and kissing him again. While Sophie was amazed by the overabundance of snow and confetti on the screen, everyone else was shocked that she was in New York and that her profession of love for a man that wasn't him had been broadcasted on national television. He wasn't able to sleep than night. She had looked so happy and that smile of hers, the one he used to pride himself in being able to make her smile, haunted him.

He walked into the kitchen the next day to hear Summer on the phone with her. He wished he had chosen another time to feel thirsty because the whole "what the hell could you possibly be busy with at 2pm on New Year's Day?", the abnormally long pause, the loud "ewww", and the quick goodbye before shutting the phone thing had made him feel sick. Thinking about her with another guy had made him feel bad… but knowing what the guy looked like, that she was actually with him, and being able to picture it had made him feel absolutely sick. The look of shock and pity on Summer's face when she hung up and turned around to see him standing there had made him feel worse. He had tried to stay to himself for a while after that because everyone kept giving him these looks.

About a month later, Seth had let it slip that she had graduated from the Sorbonne a year early and was in New York working on her masters. He always knew she was smart and had no doubt that she'd be successful at whatever she chose to do. It just pinched at him that she didn't come back home, and that she didn't bother to try and contact him. A part of him had hoped that after college, she would come back and they'd just be able to pick up where they left off but she had moved on to bigger and better things.

A part of him had hoped that her relationship with the Carleton guy would end when she was finished her masters and that she would come home but he finished college and still hadn't heard anything from or about her. He got a job offer in San Francisco and ended up moving there because it was still close enough to the Cohen's that he could visit them often, but far enough that he could live his own life. He was shocked when he found out that they were living in San Francisco together after the news of their engagement hit the tabloids. She had come home to California, but she had brought a fiancé with her.

Everyone had been tiptoeing around him the last few weeks – unsure of what to say or do. In the last few days they had changed their technique and tried to distract him. Seth had come over for a videogame marathon, Kirsten dropped Sophie off for a night and apparently told her to keep him busy, Summer forced him to join her for some protest, and Sandy asked him to sit in on one of his lectures and provide him with honest feedback. They were trying to help but he really just wanted to be alone and drown himself in beer, memories, and regret. Sometimes that was just the best way… face the thing head on and get it out of your system before you pick yourself up and move on. They cared about him though – even if he was a stupid moron for letting the best thing that ever happened to him go. That's why they invited him and some other people over for dinner in order to distract him.

Ryan quickly glanced at his watch which read 11:42. She was definitely married by now. He turned and began to walk in the general direction of the restaurant at which he parked, not really paying attention to where he was actually walking. He knew there was no way he'd ever see her or be with her again, yet he still wished he could go back in time and do things differently. He wished that he could have another chance… that she would be in his life again.

Ryan was knocked back into the real world when someone crashed into him. The force wasn't nearly enough to make him fall over, but it startled him nonetheless. He looked down to see a woman in what appeared to be a wedding dress with her face buried in his chest and hands clutching onto his arms. He didn't move because despite the fact that he was okay, the woman holding onto him was clearly struggling to stay upright.

"I am so sorry" he heard the woman breathe once she was standing straight. Her voice was familiar. "I should have looked where I was going but I'm in a rush and the ocean just looked so beautiful" she rambled breathlessly. No. It couldn't be _her_! "Again… so sorry" she said as she backed away without looking up at him. "Thanks for letting me hold on to you so that I didn't fall" she said as she began to hike up the skirt of her dress. "I don't know how I would have managed to pull myself back up in this stupid thing if I had fallen" she said with frustration echoing in her voice as she continued to struggle with the fabric of her dress. He had watched _her_ sleeping enough times to recognize the curve of those eyes. He had stared at that adorable button nose and tapped it many times all too long ago. He had kissed, tasted, and dreamt about those lips enough times to know who they belonged to.

"Taylor?" he asked because even though he knew it was her, he wondered if this was just another dream – she couldn't really be standing in front of him. He watched as she suddenly froze amidst her struggle with the white fabric of her dress before snapping her head up. He immediately found himself drowning in her beautiful hazel orbs. God, he hoped he wasn't dreaming. He hoped this was real. He hoped he was really staring into her eyes and that she was really standing in front of him. He wanted to touch her just to see if she was real.

He watched as she took a step back and let out a squeal as she began to fall backwards. Without thinking, he leaned forward, grabbed onto her arms securely and pulled her back upright before her descent to the hard wood of the pier could be completed. Her skin was soft under his fingers. He stared into her eyes as she blinked once before blinking again several times.

"Ryan?" he heard her question and he nodded. Of course she didn't remember him. She had moved on. She had forgotten him. He knew he shouldn't feel disappointed, but he still did. "Oh my gosh! Ryan!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her. It felt so right. He missed this. He missed holding her and feeling her body pressed against his own. When she pulled away from him he couldn't help but feel like the embrace ended all too soon and resisted the urge to pull her close to him again. She grabbed his hand and held onto it for support while she straightened out her dress before standing in front of him again.

The photographs of her that had been splayed across the media in the last few weeks couldn't do her justice. They failed miserably to capture her beauty. She was more beautiful now than she had been when they were younger, when he fell in love with her, and the last time he saw her. Most women seemed to grow less attractive with age, but not her. She had matured beautifully. He stood on the pier, awestruck as he took in the sight of her dark auburn silk, tanned soft skin, bright hazel eyes, adorable button nose, flushed cheeks, and supple pink lips. He would have thought he was dreaming if she hadn't touched him again.

"Ryan!" she panted as she grabbed hold of his arms and shook him with whatever strength she could muster. He watched her heaving chest and wondered how long she had been running and scanned his brain for the location of the nearest church and realized that it would be at least a forty minute run to where they were right now. He looked around and saw people staring at them and whispering. Some even went so far as to take pictures of them with their cellphones. "Please don't go all silent on me now! I need your help!"

"With what?" he asked stupidly. His brain wasn't functioning properly because he still couldn't get over the fact that she was standing in front of him.

"Is your car nearby?" she asked desperately.

"Yeah" he nodded, feeling dumber than before as she stared up at him expectantly. "Why?" he asked.

"I need to get out of here!" she exclaimed with panic as she looked around the pier and motioned to her dress. God, she looked beautiful. He would marry her right now if she was willing. Wait… What? Whoa! He couldn't think like that. She was already freaked out. "Ryan?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. Uh… yeah" he nodded. "Follow me" he told her, trying not to laugh at the sight of her struggling to hike up the skirt of her dress once again. She looked up at him once she was ready and he began to walk back to the restaurant where he had his appointment this morning briskly, putting on his sunglasses along the way. She was right behind him when they reached the building. He held the door open for her and she looked at him with questioning eyes. "I'm parked on the other side, it's faster than going all the way around" he explained. She went in and he followed behind her, lowering his sunglasses a little and smiling at the waitress who had served him earlier. The last thing he needed was them getting more attention drawn to them when someone yelled about having not purchased something. The waitress smiled back despite her obvious confusion about his company and told the others that he was okay. He quickly continued to follow Taylor through the restaurant, ignoring the gazes of people who were staring at them, and passed her so that he could hold the door open for her once again.

He made his way over to his jeep, trying not to remember the time they spent together in it because that wasn't what she needed right now. He opened the passenger door and helped her get in before closing the door and making his way to the driver's side of the jeep. He got in, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

They managed to get on the highway in complete silence until he realized that he had no idea where she was going. He looked over at her and found her staring into the distance.

"Where are you headed?" he asked, glancing over at her.

She turned to look at him with wide eyes. "I um… I don't know. I didn't think that far ahead. I just wanted to get away." she said, looking absolutely petrified.

He nodded, not really knowing what to say to her.

"Did you… uh…?" he asked, feeling stupid when he couldn't finish the question out of fear but not at all surprised when she picked up on what he meant.

"He said I do, the priest asked me if I did, I freaked out, and I ran" she said, choosing not to look at him but to pick at her nails instead. "I shouldn't have done that to him in front of so many people but I just couldn't go through with it" he noticed the way she started playing with the ring on her finger.

"Second thoughts?" he asked while he took off his sunglasses, even though he was afraid of what her response would be.

"No" she stated blankly.

Silence ensued and he kept stealing glances at her from the corner of his eye. He watched as she took off her veil, folded it, and placed it in his glove compartment. He noticed the way she breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her shoes.

"Comfortable?" he asked with a smirk.

She smiled at him ever so slightly before reaching up into her hair and pulling out some pins. She placed them in the glove compartment with her veil. He became entranced as she reached up to her hair once again, undid her bun, and shook her head while her auburn tendrils fell to cascade down her shoulders and back. He forced himself to look away and focus on the road ahead when the familiar smell of peaches and cream filled his lungs for the first time in five years.

"Now I am" he heard her say and he looked over to find her sitting back against the seat of the jeep a lot more comfortably, with the wind blowing her hair out of her face, and a bigger smile stretching her lips. She looked absolutely beautiful. "What were you doing on the pier?" Taylor asked. "You didn't move back to Newport, did you?"

"No. I had a business meeting I had to attend. I live in San Francisco" he said.

"Really?" Taylor asked and he nodded. "What a small world! I live there too."

"I know" he said, and immediately wished he hadn't. He knew so much about her and she knew nothing about his life.

"Oh. I would have never pegged you as a tabloid reading kind of guy" she said as she looked at him curiously.

"It isn't just the tabloids – it's the front page of newspapers, the television, the radio, conversations at work…" he could have gone on but chose not to when he glanced over at her saw the sullen expression on her face. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Peachy" she said and he immediately knew she wasn't okay. He watched as she began to pick at her nails again. "I hated all of that. I never wanted any of it. It was all just kind of dealt to me, you know?" she asked and he didn't say anything because he didn't know but had the feeling that she'd explain herself. "I had no idea who Brad was when I fell in love with him. Well, I knew who he was but I didn't know that he was Governor Carleton's son. In all honesty, I was kind of shocked when I found out that Schwarzenegger was no longer the governor. I had spent so much time outside of California that I had no idea what was happening here. By the time I found out who he was I had already fallen in love with him and none of it seemed like a big deal because we were in New York. As soon as we moved back here everything changed. The lack of privacy was just something that came with him and I didn't want it to get in the way but I hate it."

"So you didn't want to marry him because of the lack of privacy?" he asked. He tried to ignore the fact that she said she loved him and focus on something else. It had been five years. He tried to relax and loosen his grip on the steering.

"That and the fact that if I do my mother will constantly be forcing her way into my life. She gets along well with Brad's mother. When I went back to France she practically cut me out of her life and when she found out that I was marrying Brad she just showed up to a family dinner one night and acted like we had always been on speaking terms just because she wanted to climb the social ladder" she said. "There are a lot of reasons why I don't want to marry Brad. What it really boils down to is the fact that he isn't the one." she continued after thinking for a few moments. "I know it seems silly" she laughed "but part of me still wants to believe in true love despite how stupid the concept is in this day and age. I don't want to spend the rest of my life marrying men and divorcing them. I'm just glad that I wasn't drunk enough to actually go through with it this time."

He laughed, they exchanged a smile and he felt better. She loved Carleton but he wasn't the one for her. It was confusing but it made him think of Marissa. He loved her but deep down he knew she wasn't the right one for him. Everything with her had always been over the top and dramatic. He was never able to see him and Marissa settling down and having kids. When he was with her he was always waiting for something to tear them apart. Instead of just being himself, it was always trying to live up to being what she wanted him to be – the savior, the bad boy, the felon, the protector – because she never took the time to actually understand him. Marissa hadn't been the one for him.

All thoughts of Marissa were shoved out of his head when he heard Taylor's stomach growl. He looked at her and saw her blushing as she bit her lip and smoothed her right hand over her stomach while avoiding his gaze. He couldn't help but smile at how adorable she was.

He didn't say anything to her but pulled into the next pit stop and filled up the tank before parking near the restaurant.

"I'm going to go grab some food" he said to her as he unbuckled his belt and got out of the jeep.

"Can I wait here?" she asked. "You know… since I'm dressed the way I'm dressed?"

"I think that would be best" he laughed. "What do you want?"

"Surprise me. Just make sure it's greasy and chocked full of fat" she said and he raised his eyebrows at her. "My mother forced me to adhere to a non-dairy, non-fat, vegan diet for the past couple of months so that I wouldn't look bloated today" she shrugged.

He nodded and turned towards the restaurant. He hated her mother. What kind of woman constantly puts her daughter down? What kind of woman uses her daughter so that she can climb some pointless social ladder?

"Two double cheeseburgers and an extra-large fries" he said as he placed his order.

A teenager handed him his bag within five minutes and he walked back to the jeep. He got in and handed her a burger and put the container of fries in one of the cup holders between them.

"Thanks" she smiled at him and he smiled back.

"No problem."

He pulled out of the pit stop and put the jeep in cruise control when he saw nothing but a straight road ahead. They sat in silence as they ate.

"Greasy enough for you?" he asked with a smirk, causing her to giggle.

"Oh yeah, definitely. I missed real food."

"When I woke up this morning I never thought you'd be sitting in my jeep and eating a cheeseburger and fries in your wedding dress" he said as he tossed her a sideways glance and found her wiping her hands on a napkin and placing her garbage in the brown bag the food came in. She laughed and held the bag out for him to do the same.

"I never thought I'd be here either" she said with a smile as she reached for some fries.

They sat together in peace while they ate the fries. He reached for some and his hand found hers. They stared at each other for a few moments. He couldn't help but remember the incident with the popcorn where he leaned in to kiss her but just couldn't do it. His eyes drifted down to her soft pink lips and he wanted to lean over and kiss her so badly but chose to pop a couple of fries in his mouth and eat them instead. She avoided his gaze as she did the same and focused her attention on the view outside the windows.

"I'm glad you're here though… I hate driving alone" he said, earning a smile from her.

They both remained silent for the rest of the drive. He found it strange that she was being so quiet but he figured that she had a lot to think about. He was busy contemplating about whether he should take her back to San Francisco or to the Cohens place in Berkley. He ended up deciding on the latter because he had the feeling that everyone in San Francisco would be looking out for her and he didn't feel like letting her go again.

"The Cohens?" she asked when he pulled up the driveway and recognized the house. He nodded at her, watched as rose tinted her cheeks, and smiled because he knew she was thinking about when they got caught in bed together by one of the former owners of the house at Julie's almost-wedding to the Bullitt.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and began to put her shoes back on while he got out of the jeep walked over to the passenger side of the jeep and opened the door for her. He held out his hand to help her out and she took it without hesitation.

Her hand was soft in his own. He still felt that _feeling_ he did when she first kissed him – it was the same one he used to get whenever he'd wrap his arms around her, squeeze her hand, or tap her nose.

"I will never allow myself to be talked into buying a huge wedding dress ever again" she said as she struggled to get out of the jeep, causing him to smile at her.

"Why did you pick this one anyways?" he asked. She looked amazing but Taylor always had more of a classic taste when it came to things.

"Actually, I didn't. My mother did. She said it made me look better than I actually do" she said as she began to straighten the dress out.

"She's full of it. You know that, right?" he asked.

"I don't know if she's full of it or not but what I do know is that I don't want her around when or if I ever decide to get married again" she said with a smile.

He stared into her eyes for a few moments. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, that she shouldn't listen to her mother, and that he was stupid for letting her go. She held his gaze before her eyes drifted towards their hands and he noticed that he was still holding hers.

"Sorry" he mumbled, dropping it like a hot potato.

"It's okay. I'm just a bit nervous" she said, sweeping her bangs to the side with a single finger.

"Nervous about what?" he asked.

"I haven't seen them in ages and when I finally do see them I look like a train wreck in a wedding dress?" she asked, on the verge of panicking.

"Firstly, you don't look like a train wreck and secondly…" Ryan started as he glanced at the house and then stopped when he looked at the window. Everyone was standing by the window staring at him and Taylor. He glared at them and they continued to stare. Couldn't they take a hint?

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a bother… look, if you could just call me a cab or something I promise you I'll pay you back. I'm good for it. I swear" he could hear the panic, desperation, and anxiety in her voice. She thought she was bothering him but the truth was that he didn't want her to leave – he didn't want to let her go again. He looked at her and found her hazel eyes pleading with him.

"What? No. It's just…" Ryan started before tearing his eyes away from hers looking back at the house. Everyone was still standing by the window and watching them intently. He watched as Taylor turned around to see what he was staring at and he wearily rubbed his hand through his hair. "I think it's a bit too late to avoid the whole meet and greet after five years thing" he finished.

"Oh crap" she murmured under her breath with wide eyes before smiling and waving at everyone, causing him to duck his head over a smile. He watched as all of them slowly started to wave back at her.


End file.
